


Unravel

by orphan_account



Series: Falling Differently [6]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-01
Updated: 2013-09-01
Packaged: 2017-12-25 08:29:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/950933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“What happened to your pack, Stiles?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unravel

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not even going to ask for forgiveness for this. I don't think I really deserve it.

The time that passes after the final word leaves his lips is at once a millenia and a fraction of a second, and all the while Stiles feels the full force of Talia’s focus upon him. It takes everything he has to stop the restless fidgeting of his long limbs, made worse because he still has yet to take his medication for the morning. The worst part about the entire situation is that after spending the majority of his life around werewolves, Stiles knows that they realize exactly how he is feeling, and that it is at least partially deliberate. Clearly, Talia has no way of knowing that his ADHD is exacerbating the effect she is having on his nerves. However, once werewolves have full control over their abilities, unless they lack any sort of common decency, they tend to do whatever necessary to conceal the predatory aspects of their nature around humans who are either part of their pack, or have not shown themselves as potential threats. 

Stiles wonders what it is about himself that Talia Hale finds threatening. Is it his status as another pack’s emissary, or is it the fact that his pack has been wiped out, save for him and the little one currently gorging himself in his arms?

It is a struggle to avoid reading too much into the question Talia ultimately settles on. Does she suspect some sort of trap, or is she merely curious? “What happened to your pack, Stiles?”

Whatever the motivation for it, Stiles can only sigh and try to answer to the best of his ability. “It’s kind of a long story,” he begins, thinking back about a year. That was when everything started falling apart, though they wouldn’t realize it until much later - too much later. 

Caleb and Karen Lahey had one son, Camden, when they were both in their early twenties and Caleb’s father was still the alpha of their pack. Karen was human, and the pregnancy had been hard on her, but she still wanted to give Caleb more children. For years, they tried and failed to add to their family. However, by the time Caleb’s father died and passed on the mantel, they stopped; they had enough on their plates, raising Camden and leading a relatively large pack. No one was more astonished than Karen when, at forty-six, she found out she was expecting another child. The pack rejoiced. Caleb walked around for the next several months with his chest puffed out and a smile on his typically stoic face. Then, at seven months, Karen started having complications. Two weeks later, her doctor put her on bedrest. The pack grew worried. At all times, a beta was on hand to watch over their alpha’s mate, and Caleb himself did his best to be home with her as often as often as he could, his job and his duties as alpha permitting. Though the baby tried more than once to come early, Karen managed to hold off delivering until a few days before the due date. Given the circumstances, even though the children of werewolves are usually born at home, Karen delivered Isaac at the hospital.

“She got to hold him for a few minutes - long enough to count all ten fingers and toes and give him his name,” Stiles says, staring into the coffee mug Derek gave him as he was telling his story, and which is nearly empty as he holds the babe at the center of it all securely in his lap with one arm. “Then something - I don’t know what, since I’m not family, and Caleb wasn’t in any shape to talk about the details after - went wrong. If I had to guess, I’d think that maybe in the end, the pregnancy was just too much for her, and she just didn’t have anything left. Caleb… didn’t handle it well.” He glances up at Talia and huffs a humorless laugh. “But I mean, who would, you know?”

The hospital declared Isaac Lahey a healthy little boy, and two days later, a numb Caleb Lahey and his eldest son, Camden, brought him home. Camden, now twenty-four, stepped in to help his father run the pack and care for Isaac, taking off time from his job as a swim instructor at the local YMCA. Things were hard, but they were trying. The whole pack rallied around their alpha and his sons in their time of mourning. It might have eventually been okay, if two hotshot hunters hadn’t ventured into their territory. Normally, the entire pack would stay out of their way until the hunters had moved on, but losing Karen had broken something in Caleb, and he went after them. When the hunters never returned to their home base, more came. Against the behest of Stiles and Camden, Caleb killed several more.

“After that, it was open season. Nobody in the pack was safe. Camden started leaving Isaac with me and my dad most of the time, since only he and Caleb knew who I was to the pack. Someone must have followed him, though, because on the same night they finished off the few of the pack who were still alive, they came knocking on our front door.” His throat feels tight, and his vision begins to blur, but he tries his best to swallow down the sob that’s threatening to break free. “I’d had a bag packed for weeks - my dad, too - and we thought we were ready, but there were too many of them, and so he just. He just kissed me on the forehead and told me to take Isaac and go. I didn’t want to leave him there, but what else was I supposed to do? It wasn’t about what I wanted, anyway. It was about getting Isaac somewhere safe.” He stops and takes a huge, shuddering breath. “That was three days ago. My dad died three days ago.”


End file.
